essay:#113: Losing myself...

In the sweet poetry of Banksy....



Anonymous man, travels the world.
Leaving his signature, all round.
My sweet avatar.
And little girl, lost.




A year passes, since she left.
Where d'you go, momma?
All out in the cold.
How I miss your smile.
Your warmth.
Your love....

# transmission ends #

essay: #112: In Utero

Awake at 6am.
Dawn light, blue haze.
Think I hear her footsteps.
Softly, down the hall.
Momma, where are you now?

Deep within, a child stirs.
In utero, again.
Belly curves.
Into his embrace.
Warm, like honey.
Hot, like fire.
Birds in bloom.
Flowers sing.
Heaven.
Bliss...

# transmission ends #